


In the Hall of the Dragon Queen

by mutents



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4550106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutents/pseuds/mutents
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A letter sends Sandor into the talons of the Dragon Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Hall of the Dragon Queen

**Author's Note:**

> I suggest listening [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMS5h8OXl0Q) while reading it.

He kneels silently in front of the throne of swords, on bended knee in front of the Queen of Westeros. He is glad she has not the power of Sight, for all that he can think is how small she is, how young she is. He knows it isn't true; the Queen is the same age as his Lady Wife, and has been hardened and sharpened by the Game of Thrones just as his little bird has.

"Rise," the Dragon Queen murmurs, and he slowly climbs to his feet. "Approach," she continues, her words like a snakes hiss. With each step he takes towards the light haired Queen, he feels his hackles rise.

Mere feet in front of the Queen, a sword is slides between him and the woman. He looks towards the grizzled man holding the weapon, and finds his stormy eyes meeting the grey of the slave selling Mormont man. He's heard stories that the man was a trusted adviser to the Queen, but he's been unable to believe them.

"I believe I requested the presence of your Lady Wife, Clegane."

"Aye," Sandor growls. "And my Little Bird received your letter."

"Than, why do you stand before me, and not her?"

"Because I promised she would never have to enter the hollow halls of this cursed Keep again."

The Dragon Queen narrows her purple eyes, and Sandor feels more and more like a caged dog.

"I wished to make her Queen of the North," she finally murmurs.

"Aye. I guessed, and my Lady knew."

"Do you mean to say she doesn't wish to accept this title?"

"The Little Bird has already played the fucking Game of Thrones -- damn near had her wings cut in the process. She..." He pauses and gives his head a shake, then raises his chin in defiance. " _We_ have no interest in the pointless battles of greedy men. My Lady Wife and I only wish to raise our pups in peace."

The Targaryen falls silent, and Sandor allows his thoughts to drift. He never told his Little Bird he was going to stand before the Queen; he had simply slipped out into the night, pressing a kiss to her cheek and to her expanding belly, and setting a letter on his pillow. He squeezes his eyes shut; Sansa had warned him that neither of them should go. She was a threat to the Throne, and he was the brother of a callous rapist.

"What is it that your Lady Wife dislikes so much about the Red Keep?" The Dragon Queen finally asks, her words sly.

Sandor bites back a growl. "Her memories of this place... Their memories no young woman should have. She saw her father beheaded, was beaten, stripped, and nearly raped in this very hall..."

"I suppose that is slightly worse than being raped in your own bed, as your brother did my kin."

"The crimes Gregor committed... Perhaps no one knows them as well as I. He did rape the Targaryen's Queen, he did kill the Targaryen prince, and he did far worse things over his years of service to the crown. When the Lannister Lioness brought back his body, created a beast for the simple task of killing, she sent him to the Vale. That was where my Lady Wife was hiding; 'protected' by a man who lusted after her body and her potential. While he cowered in his rooms..."

"You became a kinslayer," the Queen finishes for him. "But the crimes of the brother..."

"Are not to be served by the innocent man."

The final words are muttered by a new voice, a far quieter and masculine voice. Sandor flicks his eyes towards the speaker, and is met by a visage so often described by his Wife.

"Lord Snow," Sandor whispers, once more moving to kneel.

"Please, don't! Let's dispense with all these frivolities and return to the subject that we are both most invested in; the safety of Sansa."

Sandor raises his chin once more.

"Tell me, how is she?"

"She's been lowered to a Dog's wife."

Snow flinches, and Sandor fights back a feral grin. He knows the way these highborn families work; nothing is more revolting to their simple minds than the thought of their lovely children marrying away from their station.

"That isn't what I asked; how is she?"

Sandor shifts, resting as much weight on his ruined leg as he dares. "Happy. She never smiled when I first rescued her from the claws of Littlefinger. But now... She's almost back to chirping her pleasantries again."

Snow smiles slowly, and he turns towards the Queen on her throne. A single nod is all he gives.

"Lord Clegane..." the Queen murmurs, and despite her control of fire Sandor feels a chill. "Return to your wife. Live your lives."

Sandor lowers himself to a kneel once more. He stands with little trouble.

He feels light in a way he never imagined he could.


End file.
